Well done Solly.

By Anna Garthwaite | Posted: Saturday April 1, 2017

Solly is producing excellent writing and developing stories which have me on the edge of my seat. Warning: This story is not for the faint hearted!

Campfire story

BANG!! CRASH!! He hurtles down the stairs, still wrestling the maniacal child. They stumble into the kitchen and the child grabs a knife from it's belt, plunging it into the his leg. Crying out in pain, he fell to the floor. The child stood over him, it's face covered in blood. It leaned in, mouth open, teeth elongating into razor sharp fangs. Leaning even closer still, it sank it's fangs gum deep into his throat.

*Gasp!* I woke up in a cold sweat, as the nightmare replayed over in my head. I got out of bed then walked down the stairs to get a glass of milk. I opened the fridge and the deformed child from my nightmare leapt from the fridge, knife in hand. We tumbled back onto the table, child on top holding the knife to my throat. I didn't have time to scream as the child sliced out my tongue. I give a strangled cough as blood dribbles down my throat. We tumble off the table, me landing on top and I throw a weak punch. It throws me off with a surprising strength, I fly into the living room smashing into the tv. It follows me into the room, throwing the knife directly into my stomach. My sight starts to dim and my furthest extremities started to go numb. I try to speak, but then remember my tongue is gone. The child walks over and removes the knife from my stomach. It's fangs grow and it bites a chunk out of my leg as I start to rapidly lose consciousness...

“Well, that's a good story,” I say as I stop typing.

“Yes, I agree,” says the child sitting next to me, slowly pulling the knife from his belt. “Don't even think about it,” I say in a bored tone, without looking over. “All right then,” the child says sadly, “you're no fun,” he added in an annoyed voice. It throws the knife tip first into the carpet so it sticks and storms out of the room fangs bared. “Ppfff, that was close,” I say, wiping my brow, “hey I know, I should write this down!” I say excitedly, grabbing my computer. “Another close encounter with the Child!” I start to write.